Look Into My Eyes
by LostInInk
Summary: Kayla Evans has lived on the streets for most of her life, but an encounter with a mysterious stranger will change her life for good. This is better than the summary, trust me. ON HOLD UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own any characters from ****Ghost Rider**** the movie or ****Ghost Rider**** the comic book series.**

I watched the cars rush up and down the crowded streets of the most populated city in the USA. Of, course, I was watching from the inside of a dumpster, praying a few certain people wouldn't find me, but still, I was watching. Ten more minutes and I should be able to get out of the dumpster, and watch from the sidewalk. Nine minutes. Eight minutes.

"Guys, I think she went down here …"

Well, might as well put up a good fight I thought, knowing gang members always checked in the dumpsters. I sighed and lifted up the heavy plastic lid that served the purpose of holding in the stench of rancid garbage that the dumpster contained.

"Hey assholes, over here!" I yelled in the general direction of where they were coming from. I felt my back pocket tentatively, and thank God it was there. My jackknife. It made fighting thugs easy, at least, compared to fist fighting. But then again, fighting thugs in general was pretty hard.

They were advancing now, and there were at least six of them. Six to one. Wow, I was done for.

"Hey pretty lady," one of the men, probably the leader, sauntered up to me, "we don't want to hurt you, so you just give us back that money and we won't. Okay?"

I laughed harshly. "Yeah right, you'll be prying this money out of my cold dead hands." I took the wad of cash out of a pocket in my worn leather jacket and waved it in front me. There was at least one thousand dollars in cash in my hands right now, and rightfully, it was mine. I mean sure, the gang members had knocked the rich girl out, but I had grabbed the purse she dropped while running from them. Rules of the street, finders keepers, losers weepers. There had been at least ten thousand dollars in that Prada bag, but I had stashed the rest for later. I could live off of one thousand dollars for about a one month to a year, depending on how extravagant or thrifty I was.

"You must not be very street savvy girly, so I'll make it simple for you, it's six to one and the odds are against you, now hand over the money or else."

I stared straight into those black beady eyes. "No." My defiance rang clear in that one word. This money meant my existence to me and I wasn't about to let that one scrawny, useless existence slip away.

"Fine, but remember, you made the choice."

Let the fight ensue, was my one thought as I pulled my jackknife out of my pocket.

* * *

My breathing was quick and shallow as I laid in the cold, dark alleyway. So this was it, I was going to die in a pool of my own blood, with a knife sticking out of my stomach. Wonderful. I'd kind of been hoping for a nice peaceful death with a fancy funeral with flowers and a eulogy about how great my life had been. Yeah, right, life on the streets wasn't that kind.

I'd taken out four of the six men. I was about to bring down the fifth when one of the men, in his final moments, seized a knife and threw it at me. Now, I have to commend him for being so surprisingly accurate at such a bad time in his life, but that's not what I was thinking at the time. All I could think or feel was pain. I cried out in anguish and fell to the ground. That was enough time for the fifth man to deal great blows to my head and torso. I couldn't do anything to resist them after that; they took the money and my innocence. Not to mention my life.

Now, as I rested there on the dirty alley floor, I wondered if God would let me into heaven after everything I'd done.

* * *

I woke up in a room with blinding white fluorescent lights. It felt like I had just been whacked over the head with frying pan. I tried to remember what I had done last and realized I pretty much had been hit over the head with a frying pan. I also realized that the pain and drowsiness meant I was alive.

"Yes, you are alive," a chilling voice echoed throughout the room. "But only because I willed it. You'd be 6 feet in the ground right now if it wasn't for me."

I attempted to get up and locate the source of the voice, but there were too many cords, wires, and tubes attached to me. That could only mean I was in a hospital and that someone had, for some reason, had rescued me.

"Who are you?" I choked out. My voice was raspy and dry like a desert.

"Why, I'm your friend Kayla," the voice responded with a slight chuckle. There was a whoosh of air and the person who produced the words stood above me. He was a very old man dressed in a suit, and had light gray hair and piercing, sharp eyes. He seemed almost … ethereal.

I was about to speak but he put a finger up to my mouth.

"Shh, shh. We don't want you to waste your energy now do we? Especially when you're on life support." The stranger pointed to an overly complicated machine with wires, that as I traced their route, found were attached to me.

"Now, let's get down to business," he said in a not quite amiable voice. "You want to live right? Just shake your head yes or no."

I actually thought about that for a fraction of a second. Did I want to live? Dying seemed like an easier way to go than trying to fight for my life. It would also allow me to be at peace. But, when did I ever walk away from something worth fighting for?

I nodded.

"You want to get revenge on the men who did this to you."

This was a statement rather than a question and a no-brainer. Of course I wanted revenge. Another nod.

"You want a family who will love you?"

This struck a nerve.

"How did you know that?" I wheezed.

"Kayla, my dear, I know everything. Now you want all these things right?"

I nodded for the third time.

"Well, I can give them to you. All you have to do is sign a contract to become my rider. That does include giving your soul to me, but it's a small price to pay for what you want, right?"

"Huh?"

"Don't worry my dear, it's nothing to worry about, you just have to do a little work for me. Here, you can read the contract over."

He handed me a scroll. As I opened it something poked me. I held up my finger and a drop of blood oozed off onto the scroll, right onto the line where I was supposed to sign.

"Oh, that will do just fine." The old man smiled and took the scroll. Then he melted into the shadows, even though there weren't any in that bright room.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I know anybody who's reading this wants the Ghost Rider to randomly appear, but that's not going to happen. You guys need to know what happened in the past so everything connects, so you're just going to have to be patient. He'll/She'll have appeared by the end of chapter 5.**

"Here is Kayla Evans, our valedictorian" the principal's voice rang throughout the auditorium.

I forced a smile onto my face as I walked up on stage, to make everyone think I was the sparkling Miss Perfect I had been seen as the last two years.

"Well everyone," I began as I took my place at the podium, "I have to say the last two years have been the most amazing and devastating time of my life. First, I was taken in off the streets by the Thomas family, who not only saved my life by rescuing me from certain death in an alleyway after I had been beaten up by a couple of thugs, but also showed me what it meant to have a family. Mr. Thomas gave me a job at his garage, where I excelled. Mrs. Thomas saw to everything I needed, including a proper education. Bailey and Sam were the best sister and brother I could have ever had. They hung out with me, helped me find friends, taught me how to play sports, and even lent a hand with homework too. Then, as you all know, a little more than a year after they adopted me, tragedy struck.

I pretended to tear up ever so slightly at this point, and my smile turned into a frown.

"The Thomases were killed in a car accident. They had been going to visit Grandmother Thomas out in Albany. I had stayed home because I needed to study for exams. A drunk driver rammed them head on while driving the wrong way on the highway. None of them survived. I was appalled, I had finally gained the family I had always wanted, and then lost them in an instant. Soon afterwards I found out that six months before, Mr. and Mrs. Thomas had made me on of their three benefactors, the other two had been Bailey and Sam, and since they were deceased, I was the main benefactor."

"I could never ever repay the Thomases for what they have done for me, because it's too great a debt. So, instead I decided I would work hard to finish what they started for me. I began to focus intensely on school and athletics. I had been getting low A's and high B's in class, but now I was determined to get all A+'s, something almost unheard of for a student in one AP and three Honors classes. I was also determined to make varsity in all the sports I played, which included volleyball, basketball, and soccer. Through hard work and perseverance, I achieved all these goals. All I can do now is hope that I've made the Thomases proud of me.

"But, I need all of you to remember, if you have the motivation, the determination, and the reason to do something great, there's no reason you shouldn't be able to. I wish everyone the best of luck in college."

I stepped away from the podium and was given handshake and my diploma by the principal, and handshakes from several other members of the faculty. Then I walked off stage, with that fake smile still plastered on my face.

* * *

"Great speech, Streets!"

I turned around and was engulfed in a bear hug by my "boyfriend," Alex. I shrugged out of his grip, only to get surrounded by someone else's arms.

"Oh my goodness, Kayla that speech was amazing," gushed my "best friend" Hannah. "I can like, totally see why you're valedictorian."

In my opinion, that was the stupidest speech ever. It was full of fake emotions. It was true that I loved and missed the Thomases and was grateful for all they gave me, but I wasn't sad about their death, I was angry. They'd been less than a half an hour away from our house when the crash occurred. I got a call from the police saying that they were all seriously injured and that they'd send me an escort. When I got there, the first thing I had noticed was him, the old man from the hospital; he smiled at me than disappeared. Then the body bags were wheeled by. I broke down immediately and the emergency workers had to hold me back to keep me from running to the body bags and ripping them open. "I don't believe you," I cried. Then I stopped struggling, _that man._ I started questioning the emergency workers, asking if they'd seen him. All of them said no.

"Hello, Streets?" I came back to reality as Alex waved his hand in my face obnoxiously.

"Sorry," I said as I grabbed his wrist and moved his hand away from my face. "I dazed off, what were talking about?"

"Hannah and I were thinking of going to a club right after the party Hannah's parents are throwing for you two. Want to come?"

I glared at him.

"Alex, you know I'm not fond clubbing. Hannah's alone is going to stress me out," I pouted.

"Please babe, it will be fun, I promise."

"No, Alex. Oh, and I almost forgot, I have to work at the garage tonight anyway, so it's definitely a no go."

"Oh, all right, if you're going to be that way…"

"I am, going to be that way." I glared pointedly at him once again.

He analyzed me for ten seconds, and then looked at me like I was crazy. Then he shrugged his shoulders and walked away to talk to some of his buddies on the football team.

* * *

"Foreclosed?!" I bellowed as I looked over the notice the man, Mr. Berns I believe it was, had just given me. I was at the garage now, no longer Miss Perfect.

"Yes, Ms. Evans," Mr. Berns replied in a chirpy tone. "If the bank doesn't get the $500,000 left on the mortgage for this place by the end of the month you're company is gone."

I stared in disbelief. He was kicking me out of the garage? For a payment I didn't even know I had to make?

"Um, Mr. Berns, I didn't even know I had to make this payment. Do you think you could extend the time for one more year?"

"Nope, sorry sweetheart –"

"Don't call me sweetheart," I growled, as I ran my hands through my hair out of frustration. I didn't want to deal with this right now and, apparently, he got the hint. Either that or he was just getting fed up with dealing with an 18-year-old girl.

"Look, you've got two weeks before you get booted out of here, so pay up."

He slammed some more papers onto my desk and then turned on heel and left, roughly pulling the door closed so it made a smack.

"Ugh!" I groaned as I ran my hands through my hair again.

"Boss?" There was a soft knock in the door.

"What Dale?" I called to the big brute of a man who was my head mechanic.

The door slowly opened, revealing half the staff.

"You okay Boss?"

"If you call this," I held up the papers right and waved them around, "okay, then yes, I'm fine."

Everyone walked towards my desk and Dale, being the first on to reach it picked up the papers and scanned them. Then he put them down on the desk, a look of disbelief on his face.

"$500,000 …"

"Yeah I know, I know," I looked at each of their faces, waiting expectantly.

"Mr. Thomas apparently didn't get to pay off the mortgage before his untimely demise, and since I inherited the shop, I'm stuck with it. And, there's almost no way for me to pay it off without going bankrupt."

Unless, the dumb ass lawyers could speed up me getting the money that was supposed be Bailey and Sam's. But, naturally that wasn't going to happen before the shop would get foreclosed. And that would break up my current family, that is, the shop workers. Unlike all the prissy people at school, they understood me. They didn't expect me to be Miss Perfect. No, my shop workers expected me to blow up when I was angry, try to remain strong for them when I was sad, and be, well me, the rest of the time. And now I was going to lose this family too.

"Don't worry Boss," Stanley, a tall lanky man with a scruffy beard, said softly, "We'll be alright, you'll find a way to get us through this."

A murmur of assent swept through the room and I peered up at them.

"If only I could Stanley, if only I could."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N Sorry it took so long to upload these chapters my computer was being stupid. Oh, and I know it is a lot of fluff right now, but bear with me, it will get better. Plus all the fluff is relevant. Well, almost all the fluff**

All the following days were filled with stress. No, that's not quite right, they were overflowing with stress. All my "friends" still wanted to hang out even though it wasn't high school any more. The only people I had expected to have to deal with after high school were Alex and Hannah. Alex was getting to know the real me more and more by every minute I spent with him, and he didn't like it, just as I expected. And Hannah … well Hannah found everything out from me about Alex. Not, only that but they were getting closer, and I was happy for them. Even though I had no real feelings for either of them since they never really understood me, it was nice to see a happy ending, to know that such a thing existed. I just blew off everyone else; I didn't need to be Miss Perfect to them anymore. I had more important things to worry about. The main one being the garage.

The deadline for the mortgage was closing in and I was clueless as what to do. I didn't want to break up the family at the garage, but I didn't want to go broke either. God, I missed the streets, where there were no real rules to worry about, and no one to care for but yourself. I wondered at theses times, if I ever should have made the deal with that stranger. I thought my life had been ruined before when I lived, now it was definitely ruined. Why had I wanted a family? Why had I wanted to be loved? These things didn't make sense to me anymore.

* * *

Ring, ring, ring. The phone rang on continuously. I scowled and checked my clock. It was 9:30 p.m.! Who the heck was crazy enough to be calling at his time of night? I treaded over to the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hey Boss, its Tracy."

"Oh, hey what's up?" Tracy was the only other girl who worked at the garage. She was about 5'4" with chestnut hair that was always up in a ponytail.

"Well, we got a customer here with a bike …"

"A bike? Trace, we're a motor vehicles shop, not man powered vehicles."

"No, Kay, a motor bike."

"Oh!" A motor bike. That changed the circumstances. I loved motorcycles/motor bikes ever since I started living with the Thomases. I thought they were the best things in the world. They seemed a lot freer than cars. The wind blowing in your hair … I'd never ridden one, but I could imagine what it was like.

"Anyway, it sounds like the piston rings are shot so I figured since you specialize in bikes you could come down and check it out. Would that be okay or do you want me to call Stan?"

"No, that will be fine. When do they want it done by?"

"They'd like it done by tomorrow. You know that one show for bikes and cars they're having at the mall, they're entering it in that."

"Yeah, I can do that." I said more to myself then to Tracy. "I'll be down there in 15 minutes."

"'Kay, see you soon boss."

"Bye, Trace."

I put the phone back into its cradle as I pulled on my worn leather jacket, the only thing I'd been able to keep from the streets. The Thomases had wanted to buy me a new one, but I told them this one meant a lot to me, so they had it restored.

I walked out of the house and towards my silver '67 Pontiac Firebird. It wasn't a bike, but a pretty sweet ride all the same. I turned the key and the totally refurbished engine roared to life.

* * *

I parked my car behind the garage and ran through the thunderous rain that had started about halfway through my drive down.

"So the diagnosis still the same?" I hollered as I hung my coat up and grabbed my light blue jumpsuit.

"Yes, but you know I'm not good with bikes."

That is true, I thought to myself, hoping she hadn't given me a wrong analysis. Tracy specialized in older cars, like my Firebird. She did okay with older bikes too, but newer bikes she couldn't work on for the life of her.

I finished changing quickly and went to the actual garage where Tracy was waiting.

"Damn, it's a beauty." I muttered upon seeing the bike. It was a 1979 Honda CBX. I circled it twice. Than glanced at Tracy.

"It's an older one. You usually do halfway decent work with these, you didn't need to call me in."

"I know," she grinned. "But, with all the drama going on lately, I thought it would cheer you up a bit."

"Thanks. You can go home now Trace, I'm not going to need any help if what you say about it is true."

She nodded and walked off.

* * *

The silence around me as I worked on the bike was soothing. Tracy was right. This was nice.

It was about midnight and I figured that it would only take me an hour more to get the thing completely functional again. I had already spent two and a half hours on this bike and wanted to get finished ASAP, so I didn't take a break as I should have.

While I worked many thoughts raced through my mind. The mortgage. The two fake friends who were finally starting to leave me alone. The family at the garage. The Thomases. That creepy old guy who killed my step family and, supposedly, I had given my soul to.

"But you did give me your soul Kayla."

I jumped, almost banging my head against the bike. I got up and spun around once, searching for the old bastard who had ruined my life. But I didn't see him.

"I'm right here Kayla."

I jumped again before slowly, deliberately, turning around to face the man who I hated with all my soul.

"But your soul is mine Kayla, we have a contract." His facial features morphed into a cruel, wry smile. He plucked an old looking scroll from somewhere in his robes and opened it. There was a small bloodstain on the line where there should have been a signature. My blood.

"You son of a bitch," a snarled as I rolled up my sleeves. "You made my life miserable and now I'm going to make yours hell."

He laughed, a cold laugh that made you feel as though you were staring death in the face, but, I had been there before. I advanced towards him, if he didn't know what pain was already he was going to know it very precisely when I was done with him.

I threw a punch directly toward the man's withered face, he caught my fist and death gripped my hand. All of a sudden it felt like I was literally on fire. The pain was so great I could do nothing but stare at the man with pure hatred.

"Kayla, you keep forgetting things, dearest. I come from hell." A throaty chuckle escaped his lips.

"This is just a little reminder before your real work begins, Kayla. Remember, you are my rider and your time is coming. I just need to give you one more thing."

I wanted to scream I didn't want anything more from him, but the searing pain kept me quiet.

"See you soon, Kayla."

The old devil vanished. I collapsed to the floor from the burning, and was shortly rendered unconscious.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N Sorry it took so long to update, I hope you all can find it in your hearts to forgive me. Please give me reviews so I know how I'm doing.**

When I woke up everything was fuzzy. As my senses became attuned I figured it was at least seven in the morning judging from the amount of light that was flowing into my bedroom window. My bedroom …

"Aw, crap!" I exclaimed as I hopped out of bed. I was still wearing the light blue jumpsuit from the shop. "Crap, crap, crap, crap, crap!"

One my workers must have come in early and found me passed out. Instead, however, they thought I was asleep from being up so late so they just took me home. And the bike wasn't done yet!

Without changing my clothes (I'd never had a change of clothes on the street so it really didn't matter to me) I went downstairs to the kitchen. There was a note on the table

_Boss, _it read:

_Found you asleep on the garage floor working on a bike .We figured we could fix it ourselves once we got you home in a nice, warm bed. You can come back and check on it once you have woken up entirely if you want. You don't have to though; you've been working really hard lately and deserve a break._

_-Dale & Stanley_

That was nice of them, I had to admit. However, I was not pacified. I'd made a special adjustment to make sure the piston rings would last longer and if it was tampered with this could end in a catastrophe. In ten seconds I had grabbed my keys (which Dale and Stanley had conveniently put next to the note) and was out the door and in my car.

I sped the whole way to the shop, not caring if I got pulled over. I had never once had a displeased customer, and was hoping I would never have to.

As I rode up to the shop I saw a car that I was not familiar with parked in front. It was newer, not the kind I would expect my workers to have. It must have been the customer with the bike.

"That'll be $340," Dale was handing a receipt over to our customer.

"Hold on a minute!" I grabbed the receipt just as the customer reached for it, slipping it into a pocket on my grimy jumpsuit. "Just let me check the bike out really fast Dale, I want to make sure you didn't mess up the adjustment I was working on."

"You mean the one to make the piston rings last longer?" Dale threw a mischievous glance at me.

"Yep."

"I made sure I didn't screw it up. I didn't want to have to see you dealing with an unsatisfied customer later."

"Let me check it out anyway."

"Um, excuse me," the customer waved his hand. "But I really have to get this bike to the show."

"Don't worry-" I began before stopping mid-sentence. Our customer was a boy, approximately two years older than me. He had sandy hair, and was fairly tan with (if I do say so myself) a nice build. All in all, hot.

"What Kayla was going to say," Dale interceded clapping a hand on the boy's shoulder, "was that she's the best bike mechanic we have in this garage, and that it shouldn't take her that long to check it over. Not to mention she'll catch anything else that could be wrong with your bike."

"Exactly," I said coming out of my trance. "It'll seriously only take a minute."

I threw a grin in the boy's direction.

"I can even show you how to make sure you don't accidentally ruin it, again."

"So that's pretty much it, Gabe," I said, wiping the grease off of my hands as I turned away from the Honda.

"That's great," Gabe, also known as the customer, smirked. "Now I won't have to worry about my dad nagging about it all the time."

"Oh, so you're a daddy's boy?" I laughed, pulling few strands of hair out of my eyes. "Aren't you a little old to still be living with your father?"

"Aren't you a little young to be running a whole garage?"

"Touché." I removed the receipt from my pocket. "Here, take this to Dale, the big man you were talking to in the beginning. He'll make sure the whole money part of this runs smoothly."

Gabe took the receipt and headed over to the front desk, where Dale was, with me close at his heels. The simple writing of a check went without a problem, and soon Gabe and his Honda were out the door.

"Kayla's got a cru-ush," Tracy said in a sing-songy voice as she flitted into the lunch/locker room. She snatched her brown lunch bag from her locker and then plopped herself down at one of the seats around the table.

"Huh?" I asked incredulously.

"Oh come on, admit it. You liked mister tall-blond-and-hot early today."

"Gabe?" I was still confused.

"Oh, that's his name? It's perfect. He's like the angel Gabriel, coming to save you."

"Gabriel was a messenger angel," I replied from what theological knowledge I had. "Michael was the one who fought all the evil spirits."

The irony made me grin, maybe if his name was Michael he could've helped me.

"Well, either way Kayla's got a cru-ush."

"Shut up, Trace."

Trace threw a teasing look at me, and then dug into her sandwich and water bottle lunch. Then Louis, another one of my workers who had just come in in time to catch the last part of our conversation, sat down at the table.

"So when's your first date?"

"Louis!" I growled as I shoved my seat backward and made a lunge, catching Louis by his arm.

"Whoa, whoa what's going on in here?" Dale, Stanley, and the rest of my employees on duty had just arrived, and it had to look pretty strange to see their boss attempting to tackle one of their coworkers.

"Trace and I were just trying to get some information on the mysterious blond-haired customer the Boss was working with this morning."

"Yeah," Tracy added, "You know, the one she was making goo-goo eyes at."

"And smiling at the whole time while she was talking to him? That was Gabe," Dale said, his face lighting up. "He needed the Boss to fix his bike for him and she showed him some upkeep."

"I was not smiling at him the whole time," I shot back. "If anyone was it was Louis. We all know what he does in his free time."

There was an uproar of laughter and Louis rolled his eyes.

"Well at least I wasn't making lovey dovey faces at my customer."

"That's it!" I roared and making good on my previous intentions, tackled Louis. Before I could make any death threats though, Dale had hauled me off Louis and Stanley had positioned himself between us.

"That's enough you two," Dale said in a patronizing tone. "Now everybody start eating before the Boss decides to keep us here for haranguing her instead of letting us go to the bike show."

Everyone obliged to Dale's request, and soon the lunchroom had returned to normal.

I was just getting ready to shut down the garage when Stanley called. All the workers had left two hours ago for the bike show, and that had given me some time to ponder my financial worries (and get a job to fix a busted radiator). I had eventually given up, devoid of any thoughts for a solution. I now had one week to pay the debt, or cede my garage to foreclosure, and the chances for the better outcome were getting slimmer and slimmer.

"Hello, Thomas Garage, how can I help you?"

"Boss, it's me."

"Oh, hey Stan," I sighed with relief, I had been afraid it was the bank. "What's up?"

"Just wanted to make sure you're okay. I was afraid you were going to crack when everyone started beating up on you at lunch today."

"I'm not that pathetic." I grinned "You know that."

"That I do," Stan replied. "Anyhow, I also kind of wanted to tell you to give Mr." Stan paused, and I heard papers flipping in the background, "Gabriel Eddings, a chance. You looked happier than I've ever seen you when you were with him today."

I desperately tried to deflect the bullet that was aimed at my heart.

"How do you know his last name? Don't tell me you're picking up on Louis's bad habits."

"That's besides the point Kayla." Uh-oh. Stan rarely ever used my real name. "All you've known in your life is – well not unhappiness, but you don't ever care for yourself, you're always looking out for others and just barely scraping by. Maybe it's time you looked at something for yourself."

A small, almost undetectable smile hinted at my lips. He was skirting around something.

"What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything. He saw me at the motorcycle show and told me to give you his number. He also gave me some raffle tickets. I honestly have no idea what they're for."

"Well probably something motorcycle related I would, guess."

"Because that wasn't obvious."

"Just trying to help."

"Anyhow, I'll let you know everything tomorrow, okay?"

"Yeah. Thanks, Stan."

"Anytime Boss."

I gently hung the phone on the plaster wall, and then put my hand up against the wall for support. Inside, though I didn't tell Stan, I knew I would never see Gabe again. Not because I didn't want to, but because everything and everyone I loved always seemed to get hurt, and I wouldn't allow that to happen to Gabe.


End file.
